


What it could have been

by HKGlenstid



Category: League of Legends
Genre: F/M, Fan Lore, Gen, Lore Building, One Shot, not everyone is evil like in lore, world building
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-27
Updated: 2020-04-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:27:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,176
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23870836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HKGlenstid/pseuds/HKGlenstid
Summary: A series of short stories about champion lore. Most are going to be made up, I just wanted to try my hand at writing some fan lore to flesh out some characters. Written so far: Leblanc
Relationships: Emilia Leblanc & Jericho Swain
Kudos: 9





	What it could have been

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own League of Legends, this is just a compilation of short stories I wanted to dabble with because lore

Noxus was one of the worst cities to raise a child. Everybody knew of the struggle. Only the strong and wealthy could afford to raise a child. Emilia Leblanc knew of the struggles to come with motherhood, especially at the age of eighteen. Having a two-year-old child was having a toll on the young woman's health

Noxus was where the strong prevailed, the weak perish amongst the sewers. But for reasons foreign to her, she could not abandon her child.

With an old tattered brown cloak over her body, Emilia cradled her child, hoping to keep her warm with her body. Through the dark alleyways, Emilia moved, being merely a shadow amongst the lingering darkness, her cloak fluttering against the harsh winds.

She finally reached her destination, an old single storey wooden house in the plebian parts of Noxus. It was run down, with holes in the roof, and it looked as if it would topple from a single touch.

Carefully making her way up the front stairs, she weakly knocked on the wooden shack. There was a shuffle of feet from within the old house. Eventually the wooden door opened ajar, the sight of chains appeared in between Emilia and the owner of the house.

The red irises bore into Emilia's hazel ones, causing her to almost take a step back.

"Emilia?" the voice asked, as if he were trying to determine whether this was a dream or not.

Without saying anything, the man closed the door, a rattle of chains could be heard, before he opened it fully. In the doorway stood a young man roughly Emilia's age. He was tall, with dark raven coloured hair. He had on a simple white shirt and brown vest, with long brown pants. His piercing red eyes bore intelligence and wisdom despite his youthful appearance.

"It's been a while Jericho," Emilia replied.

"You look like shit," Swain answered, a serious expression on his face.

"Charming as always," Emilia replied sarcastically. "May I come in?"

Swain shrugged, motioning for her to come in. As she did, he closed the door, locking it back again.

Emilia thankfully didn't expect much of the interior, as it was similar to its outer appearance. It was plain, with a small wooden dining table in a cramped kitchen. There was a small area with a single rocking chair and a fireplace beside the kitchen, and a hallway that led to the bedrooms no doubt.

"Take a seat," Swain stated, pulling out the only chair around the table, a sign that he rarely got visitors. Or none at all.

Emilia didn't say anything, and sat down, carefully cradling her child in her arms. Swain stood in silence, staring at Emilia, both waiting for each other to start the conversation.

"The child isn't yours if that's what you're wondering," Emilia suddenly stated, interrupting the silence.

"I've never been that drunk before," Swain replied. "I do hear the rumours though. Darkwill of all people…"

The young woman said nothing.

"I was foolish to think that happiness was that easy," she admitted. "I should have realised he only wanted an heir with power."

"Did you come here to dump your problems on me?" Swain asked, crossing his arms.

"I just need a place to stay for the night," Emilia replied. "Darkwill wants her as his heir, and wants me dead since I ran away with her. They found me, so I had to quickly flee."

"And if they find you here?"

"I said it was just for the night…plus I killed the ones that found me. Darkwill thankfully has idiots in his service."

Sighing, Swain shook his head.

"I'm not losing an arm for you," Swain stated.

"Please Jericho," Emilia said. "One night."

Uncrossing his arms, he leaned closer towards Emilia.

"You know this is treason right?" he asked.

A playful smirk appeared on Leblanc's face. "And you care because?"

Swain shrugs. "I don't really, just making sure you know."

The woman pauses for a sec, before a small giggle escapes her lips. "You are too much Jericho."

She could swear she saw a rare smile reach Swain's lips, but it disappeared almost as quickly as it had appeared.

"You can take the bed, you look like you need it more," Jericho stated, standing from his spot. "I'll sleep on the chair."

"But-"

Swain held up his hand, silencing the young mother, standing from his spot.

"Sleep," he said. "If you have something to say, talk in the morning."

And with that, the young man made his way to the worn out rocking chair, placing some cushions on it. As he did, Leblanc stood from her spot, and made her way to the bedroom, stopping just before she entered the room.

"Thank you Jericho."

Swain didn't say anything, but after realising that Emilia hadn't moved, he sighed.

"Goodnight Emilia. Now hurry up and sleep, you're going to need it when your daughter wakes up crying."

Without saying anything more, Leblanc disappeared into the room, shutting the door quietly.

Outside Swain sighed, pointing at the fireplace, a spark of fire erupted from his hands, lighting the wood. He slumped back into the rocking chair facing the fireplace, and began to tap his fingers.

"Old habits die hard, huh," he muttered. "I guess there's some truth in it after all."

He continued to watch the fire, eventually falling asleep to the gentle warmth that the fireplace provided.

* * *

"Thank you for everything Jericho," Emilia said, saying her final goodbyes.

It was early in the morning, as Leblanc wanted to leave as soon as she could. The quicker she left, the harder it was for Darkwill to find her.

The three of them were outside the city gates, as the guards were offered a quick nap from Emilia.

Staring at Swain, Leblanc could see that he remained stoic. No expression, not a hint of sadness, or happiness or any form of emotion at all. Thinking of something hilarious, she lifted her child towards him.

"Say bye bye Beatrice."

"Beatrice?" Jericho sounded shocked.

"Yeah, after my mother," Emilia stated. "I thought it would be fitting."

Swain stared at Beatrice nervously, watching what appeared to be a pouting face, before the baby erupted into tears.

"Shhhhh," Emilia cooed, cradling Beatrice gently in her arms. "Mommy's here."

Jericho starched the back of his neck, not sure of what to do from the obvious realisation.

"I don't think she likes me," he said.

"With that face of yours always looking grim? I'm not surprised."

"I'll be sure to take that advice to heart," he said sarcastically. "Anyway, it would be best if you left now."

Nodding, the young woman flipped on her hood with one hand, before muttering a goodbye. She turned and ran away from the gates.

Swain could only watch as his only friend disappeared amongst the rows of trees amongst the horizon, praying for her safety of both her and her child. Then with a grim expression, he turned around on the spot and went back to his own boring life.


End file.
